


Let's Bring Her Home

by rainsoakedshoes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison Gets a Funeral, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Banshee Lydia Martin, Blood Magic, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hale Family Feels, Resurrection, Soul Binding, Temporary Character Death, lydia learns to use her powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 23:44:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2289032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainsoakedshoes/pseuds/rainsoakedshoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Derek, please?” Lydia was looking at him with tears in her eyes, she had her makeup and hair done but Derek could see through the cracks in her mask. “I have to try. You have to understand.” </p><p>Derek’s jaw clenched and Lydia took a step back, realising that she may have pushed a bit too hard. But then Derek sighed and the tension leaked out of his body. </p><p>“I’ll help you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Bring Her Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CarolineLahey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarolineLahey/gifts).



> This is set maybe a few days after the pack defeated the nogitsune, an alternate ending to "The Divine Move". Instead of Kate showing up to kidnap Derek, Lydia shows up looking for help and forming a plan in her mind.

Lydia took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before she slid the door to the loft open. She tried not to think about what happened the last time she had come to the loft to speak to a Hale.

“Lydia,” Derek greeted. “What can I do for you?”

“Are we alone?” Lydia asked, holding her bag closer to her.

Derek nodded. He unfolded his arms and took a step towards her; anxiety and sadness were rolling off her in waves. “What do you need?”

“I need you to tell me everything you know about Banshees and their abilities to communicate with the dead.” Lydia looked Derek in the eye. “Or if you don’t know, I need you to help me find out.”

“I don’t really know anything. I’d never met a banshee before you,” Derek shook his head slowly. “All I know is that banshees who fully harness their powers can be very powerful.”

“How do I harness my power?!” There was desperation and a hint of hysteria in her voice. “I’ve found some things about banshees who have gone beyond necromancy and been able to perform resurrections but I need to know more, I need to know how. Maybe some of those old books you keep around have some information? I have to know!” She spoke fast as though she couldn’t waste any time.

“Lydia,” Derek took another step towards her and for the first time looked at the bag she was carrying. One of Allison’s arrows was sticking out the top, everything she had just said sunk in and he realised what she was trying to do. “Lydia no. This is a bad idea.”

“I’m going to do this one way or another,” Lydia told him, her spine was straight as a rod but tears pricked at her eyes. “I don’t _need_ you to help me.”

Derek rubbed a hand across his face. “Even if we find a way to harness your powers resurrection has links to dark magic, very dark magic, and it might not work the way you want it to.”

“But it _can_ be used for good, there are myths about bringing back loved ones who die too soon that say the gods decided to give them a second chance.”

“Lydia…”  

“Derek, please?” Lydia was looking at him with tears in her eyes, she had her makeup and hair done but Derek could see through the cracks in her mask. “I have to try. _You_ have to understand.”

Derek’s jaw clenched and Lydia took a step back, realising that she may have pushed a bit too hard. But then Derek sighed and the tension leaked out of his body.

“I’ll help you.”

***

The werewolf stuck his claws into the grate and twisted. Lydia stared in disbelief as a set of stairs appeared before them.

“You were serious,” Lydia shook her head. “There is actually a vault under the high school.”

“In all fairness the vault was here before the high school,” Derek shrugged, leading the way down.

“How old is it?” Lydia asked.

“A hundred years? One hundred and fifty?” Derek guessed. He wasn’t sure how long the vault had been there, but he remembered his mother talking about how the vault had been built around the same time the Hale's started protecting Beacon Hills.

“What, did you guys come over on the Mayflower?” Lydia joked, amazed that she was able to have a sense of humour, considering the reason they were in the vault in the first place.

Derek turned to look at her and gave her a small shrug before turning back to browse the shelves.

“No,” Lydia narrowed her eyes. “Werewolves did not come over as pilgrims. You’re messing with me.”

“Believe whatever you want,” Derek told her. “But think about it, what would be better to a werewolf pack trying to escape hunters than the new world?”

Lydia pursed her lips, she couldn’t tell if Derek was being serious or not. He didn’t seem to be the kind of person to joke around like that, especially not about his family, but maybe he had a sense of humour after all.

While Derek scoured the shelves looking for the looks he was thinking of Lydia wandered around, looking at the smaller items that filled the shelves. She ran her fingers over artefacts that looked like they were hundreds of years old, some of them were covered in layers of dust but others were clean as though someone had been handling them recently. She wondered how often Derek came down here to be surrounded by what he had left of his family.

Lydia picked up a picture frame, the photo it contained was of a woman with two men flanking her. The woman was smiling serenely at the camera while the two men stood emotionless beside her.

“That’s my mother, Talia,” Derek told her. Lydia jumped at the sound of his voice, she hadn’t noticed that he was behind her.

“She’s beautiful. You look a lot like her,” Lydia looked up at Derek who had a sad smile on his face. “I’m sorry, does it bother you to hear that?”

Derek shook his head. “I’ve been hearing it my entire life.”

“Who are the two men?” Lydia asked, pointing at the photo.

“The Alpha’s of two other packs, the Jefferson Pack and the Renard Pack, I think, this happened before I was born but I’ve heard the stories. They were fighting over territory lines and my mother mediated. This was taken just after they reached a treaty,” Derek explained.

“Werewolf peace talks,” Lydia smiled at the thought.

“Yeah something like that,” Derek agreed. “Inter-pack politics can be very complicated.”

“Maybe when we’ve finished what we’re trying to do now you can explain it to me?” Lydia suggested and Derek nodded. She was genuinely interested in pack relations, she wanted to learn all she could about the supernatural.

“Speaking of our current mission,” Derek said, leading Lydia over to a shelf full of old leather bound tomes. “I think these books should be able to help us. They’re pretty old, I think a lot of it is in Latin.”

“That’s okay, I can read Latin so I can translate.” Lydia picked up one of the books and started flipping through the thick pages.

“That’s great,” Derek said picking up a book of his own. “But I can read Latin too, so we don’t need to translate anything.”

“You speak Latin?”

Derek looked at Lydia expecting to see surprise on her face, but she looked impressed. “Yeah, I speak Latin, Spanish, French and enough German to get me by.”

Lydia gave him a small smile. “I’m glad I didn’t enlist the help of an idiot.”

Derek smirked at the almost compliment then looked around the room. “Did you want to take these books back to the loft, or stay here?”

“Can we go to my place?” Lydia asked. “I got Deaton to give it the same treatment he gave Scott’s and I’d rather read these in a place that Peter can’t get into.”

Derek nodded and started to load books into his arms. “I can get behind that.”

***

Lydia’s room looked almost exactly like Derek thought it would. It was neat and well styled, but Lydia’s personality came through, pictures of her and her friends were tacked up and dog eared books were piled on her bedside table, novels that she’d clearly read multiple times as well as physics books and what looked like a university level mathematics textbook.

“Are you sure your mom is going to be okay with me being here?” He was hyper aware that he was standing in a teenage girls bedroom late at night and the last thing he wanted or needed was Lydia’s angry mother calling the police (even if they could explain all of this away to Sheriff Stilinski).

Lydia laughed. “Mom is out of town on some teachers conference,” she told him putting the books down on her bed. “And trust me you wouldn’t be the first twenty something year old guy mom has caught in my room.” Lydia considered asking Derek exactly how old he was anyway but then turned away and pushed the thought out of her mind, it didn’t matter.

Derek frowned. He suddenly felt very protective of Lydia and he didn’t like the idea of random guys who should really know better taking advantage of her. He watched Lydia check the window was locked and realised she probably thought she was the one taking advantage of those men, which was possibly true to some extent, but after everything that she had gone through in such a short amount of time, he felt an overwhelming need to protect her.

Lydia but down a barrier of mountain ash at the bottom of the door for extra protection, she didn’t even hesitate about effectively trapping a werewolf in her room.

Lydia sat cross legged on the bed with one of the books in her lap while Derek settled down in her desk chair with a book of his own. Derek took a moment to look at Lydia before he started reading; she was barefoot with her hair thrown up in a messy pony tail so it was out of her face while she read, she was concentrating hard on the page in front of her but she looked more relaxed than she had in a long time.

They read for hours until the sky start to lighten and bleed gold and red. Derek’s eyes were burning and Lydia kept yawning but neither of them stopped reading. They were determined to find something.

Lydia re-read the same page twice then looked up at Derek.

“Soul binding,” She said softly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I found a way to bind a persons’ soul to any object. We might be able to bind Allison’s soul to her body.”

“Soul binding,” Derek repeated.

Lydia nodded. “With my powers I could act as a conduit, help her transition from spirit back to her body.”

“Lydia,” Derek sat forward and looked the teenager in the eye. “That’s possession.” They had just finished dealing with possession, the aftermath of a possession was the reason they were looking for a way to bring Allison back in the first place.

“It’s _Allison_ ,” Lydia held his gaze. “She won’t hurt us.”

Derek felt like arguing.

It was Allison they were talking about. The same girl who had attacked and tried to kill him and his pack. The same girl who had a history of seeking revenge. The same girl who had Argent blood running through her veins.

It was Allison they were talking about. The same girl who had died trying to protect and save her friends, _her pack_. The same girl who figured out how to take down the Oni. The same girl who came from hunters but fought alongside werewolves anyway. The same girl whose loyalty ran deeper than name or blood.

“How do we do it?” He asked.

“Once we have Allison, I find a way to contact her spirit. Once she is bound to me we complete the ritual by binding her spirit to her body,” Lydia closed her eyes, “and we need your healing abilities,” She sucked in a breath. “It’s blood magic.”

“Okay,” Derek’s voice was even. “Okay.”

Neither of them wanted to think about the last time Lydia had used him to bring someone back from the dead.

“One problem though. How do we steal a sixteen year old girls’ body without anyone noticing?” Derek internally cringed at how callous his words sounded.

“Seventeen,” Lydia said, her voice barely a whisper.

“What?”

“Seventeen. Allison is seventeen. She’s a year older than the rest of us, she was held back a year in school because of her family moving so much.”

Derek didn’t comment on how Lydia refused to talk about Allison in the past tense.

“Oh.” He realised how little he actually knew about Allison, or about Lydia, but he was still willing to partake in dangerous blood magic to try and bring Allison back.

“And,” Lydia continued. “We’ll find a way for get her after the funeral. I don’t know how yet but we’ll think of something.”

“Maybe we could tell the others?” Derek suggested. “They could help.”

“No,” Lydia shook her head. She looked back up at him, eyes wide and wet with tears. “No. We can’t tell anyone. The less people who know the better.”

The ‘ _in case it doesn’t work_ ’ was left unsaid.

Derek stood up and crossed the room, he sat down on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on Lydia’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” He told her. “We’ll figure it out on our own.”

There was a sudden knock at the front door that made both Lydia and Derek jump. Lydia wiped her eyes then stood up. She broke the mountain ash barrier and motioned for Derek to follow her downstairs.

Scott and Stiles were standing at the door when Lydia opened it, neither of them looked like they had slept.

“Scott, Stiles,” Lydia gave them a small smile. “Come in.”

She stepped inside and let the two boys pass her.

“Sorry, we know it’s early,” Scott said.

“It’s okay,” she told them. “What’s going on?”

“We wanted to see if you were okay, no ones’ heard from you,” Scott trailed off when he noticed Derek loitering at the bottom of the stairs. “Derek. What are you doing here?”

Lydia turned to look at Derek, mouth open and shaking her head. She didn’t know what to tell them.

“You texted me,” Derek said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “You were wondering if I’d heard from or seen Lydia since no one else had, I hadn’t heard from her but I decided to come over and check on her.”

“I didn’t think you got my messages,” Scott narrowed his eyes.

“I get your messages,” Derek shrugged. “I just never reply to them.”

Lydia hid a smile behind her hand.

“So how are you doing?” Scott asked, turning his attention back to Lydia.

“Not very good,” Lydia admitted. “But considering what’s happened, I could be doing a lot worse.”

Scott and Stiles both nodded in understanding.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get back to your messages,” Lydia continued. “I just needed some time alone.”

“You are coming to the funeral though, right?” Scott’s voice cracked halfway through his question.

“Of course,” Lydia said.

Stiles had been quiet throughout the entire exchange but he finally looked up at Lydia.

“Lydia, I’m sorry.” Stiles’ voice was barely a whisper.

“It’s okay, Stiles,” Lydia pulled him into a hug. “You don’t have to apologise.”

She meant it. She didn’t blame Stiles for what had happened, she didn’t think anyone blamed him but himself.

“Did you want us to stay?” Scott asked when Stiles and Lydia had broken apart. “You shouldn’t isolate yourself like this.”

“Actually,” Lydia looked at Derek then back at the two teenage boys. “I haven’t slept yet, so I should probably get some rest. But I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Scott tried to smile but it didn’t fully reach his eyes. “Get some sleep. Take care of yourself.”

“You too,” She said, hugging the two young men goodbye.

Scott and Stiles paused at the door, they looked at Derek as though they expected him to follow them and leave Lydia alone.

“Both of you should get some sleep too,” The older werewolf said, standing stock still in his place at the bottom of the stairs.

Neither Derek nor Lydia offered an explanation for why Derek was staying so Scott and Stiles nodded and closed the door behind them.

Lydia and Derek were back in Lydia’s bedroom when Derek spoke again.

“You _should_ get some sleep,” he told her.

“No,” Lydia pursed her lips. “I need to find a way to contact Allison, the whole plan goes to hell if I can’t do that.”

“Lydia,” Derek put his hand on her arm. “A couple of hours, then you can meditate, scream, whatever you need to do.”

Lydia clenched her jaw and gave Derek her best glare, but he didn’t back down.

“Fine,” She conceded, her shoulders slumping. “A couple of hours.”

She pulled some clean clothes from her dresser and headed to the bathroom to change.

While she was gone Derek took a closer look at the things Lydia had displayed around her room.

Her vanity was full makeup products and jewellery, there was a pile of shoes jumbled together in one corner like Lydia hadn’t gotten around to putting them away yet. Derek picked up the thick mathematics textbook on her bedside table and flicked through it; passages and equations were highlighted, there were annotations in the margins and sticky notes marking important pages, the whole thing was colour coded.

His attention was drawn to the photos he had noticed when he’d first entered Lydia’s bedroom.

He didn’t recognise a lot of people in the photographs, but Lydia was giving the camera a beauty queen smile in almost all of them. There were a handful that were more personal, ones that had been captured in the spur of the moment.

Several were photos of Lydia and Allison, their heads pressed together so they could both fit in the frame, mouths open in laughter.

There were two photos of Lydia and Jackson, from before both of them had been dragged into the supernatural underbelly of Beacon hills. There was a lipstick smudge on one of the pictures, in the other Jackson was kissing Lydia on the cheek.

Derek lifted up one of the photos of Allison to see what was hidden beneath it. There was a photo of a young Lydia, cheeks still chubby with baby fat, she was sitting on an older woman’s lap and both of them were making a face at the camera.

“That’s me and my grandma,” Lydia told him, walking up to his side. “It was my sixth birthday party. I was dressed up as Ariel, you know, The Little Mermaid.”

“You two were close?” Derek asked.

“Very,” Lydia confirmed.

Derek put the photo of Allison back and turned to face Lydia.

She was dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of pyjama shorts, her hair was down and bushed out, and her face was completely free of makeup. Without the makeup on her face the dark circles under her eyes were more obvious, but there was a ghost of a smile on her lips from thinking about her grandmother.

Lydia moved all of the old books from her bed onto the floor, careful not to damage any of them. She pulled back the covers and Derek sat back down on the desk chair.

“No,” Lydia said and Derek looked up at her. “You are not sitting there and watching me sleep.”

Derek felt his cheeks heat up. He stood and made his way to the door.

Lydia sighed and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘ _men are idiots’._

“I didn’t mean for you to leave,” she told him. “If I’m sleeping so are you,” she gestured to the other side of the bed. “You’ve gotten as little sleep as I have.”

“I can sleep in the chair,” Derek tried compromising.

“Are you really arguing with me right now?” Lydia crossed her arms.

Derek ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t believe he was having a stare down with a teenager over whether or not to take a nap.

And he was losing.

Derek huffed and kicked off his shoes, Lydia smiled triumphantly.

“I have an alarm set for two hours,” Lydia said, settling down on the mattress. “Then I need to work on contacting Allison.”

“Okay,” Derek stared at the ceiling, fatigue finally washing over him.

When the alarm went off two hours later Lydia woke up with her face pressed against Derek’s chest and his arm draped over her. Derek was a solid wall of heat next to her and Lydia couldn’t help but think how nice it would be to curl up closer to him and fall back asleep. Derek reluctantly moved his arm and allowed Lydia to sit up so she could silence the alarm.

Lydia pulled her hair up into a high pony tail to keep it out of her face. “Okay,” she said to herself. “Let’s see if these powers are actually useful.”

Derek excused himself to the bathroom and when he returned he found Lydia had remade the bed and was sitting on it cross-legged. He moved the desk chair over to the end of the bed and sat down.

“Is that the Argent necklace?” Derek asked, gesturing to the piece of jewellery Lydia had in her hand.

Lydia nodded. “I thought it might help me.”

She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the voices swirling around her. There were so many whispering at once; most of her energy was spent on blocking the voices out and now that she was letting them in it was overwhelming. She tried to sort through the voices, searching for the familiar sound of Allison.

After a while Lydia let out a frustrated sigh and opened her eyes, Derek was staring right at her.

“Maybe it would work better if I wasn’t here?” He suggested.

“You’re going to be there when we bind her soul to me so I need to be able to make contact with her when you’re around.” Lydia told him.

Lydia bit her lip and Derek leaned forward, he wished there was something he could do to help.

“What’s it like?” He asked. “Hearing the voices?”

“It’s frustrating,” Lydia admitted. “It’s like listening to people talk through a wall, I can hear them but it’s not clear enough to make sense of. I keep thinking I can hear her but it’s so quick and faint I can’t be sure.”

“When werewolves first start learning to control our shifts, before we have a proper anchor, we tend to use mantras to help us ground ourselves and focus our powers. Ours was _Alpha. Beta. Omega._ Maybe you could try something like that.” Derek had no idea if banshee powers could be focused the same way but it was worth a shot.

“You want me to say _Alpha. Beta. Omega_?” Lydia sounded dubious.

“No,” Derek shook his head. “Maybe if there’s a saying or something that means something to you or Allison.”

“Like her families code.”

“ _We hunt those who hunt us_?” now it was Derek’s turn to sound unconvinced.

“ _We protect those who cannot protect themselves_ ,” Lydia corrected. “Allison told me how she decided to change it.”

There was a small smile on Derek’s face, he wasn’t surprised, Allison would be the type to change a centuries old hunters’ code.

“You could try that,” he said.

Lydia took a deep breath and closed her eyes again.

She started off by saying the words out loud then slowly trailed off until she was just mouthing them. She could feel Derek staring at her but instead of making her feel uncomfortable his presence helped ground her.

She imagined Allison saying the code with her.

_We Protect Those Who Cannot Protect Themselves_

Lydia waded through the screaming, echoing voices, searching for the calming voice she knew was hidden amongst them.

_Lydia!_

It was so faint Lydia almost missed it. She repeated the words again and pictured Allison’s face.

_Lydia!_

It was clearer the second time, and it was definitely Allison.

Lydia opened her eyes and smiled at Derek.

“I heard her,” she told him. “I heard Allison.”

Even with her eyes open and focusing on Derek she could feel Allison’s presence in her mind.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Derek admitted.

“I’m glad you suggested it,” Lydia said. “The connection with her is very weak but it’s there.”

“You have some time to practise and strengthen it.”

“Will you stay with me?” Lydia asked.

“Of course.” Like there was a chance he was going to leave her now.

***

If you asked Derek, grief was the worst emotion to smell on people.

Anger was bitter and made your teeth clench. Guilt made you feel heavy and your stomach turn. Stress put all your senses on high alert. Disgust made the bile rise in the back of your throat. Fear made your fingers tremble. Jealousy stung and made your chest feel tight.

Grief however, grief felt like an ice cold hand around your heart, squeezing tighter and tighter with each passing moment. Grief was like a knife being plunged into your stomach and twisted. Grief was like someone holding you underwater until your lungs were burning for air. Grief was every inch of your body hurting.

And it was 10 times worse if you were grieving yourself.

The small funeral home was packed full of people mourning the loss of Allison Argent, their grief almost tangible.  

Chris Argent sat in the front row of chairs, staring unblinking at the coffin of chestnut wood. He had chosen a closed casket service. There was no viewing. He played with the gold wedding band on his left hand.

Extended family filled the chairs around Chris; all of them hunters but they had left their guns at home, today they were not here to fight.

Scott cried throughout the service, unashamedly leaning on his mother for support. Melissa hugged her son and cried for him, she cried for Chris losing his only child, and she cried for the beautiful girl who had deserved a long life.

Isaac sat on Scott’s other side, his jaw clenched, desperately trying not to cry but every now and again a tear would escape and roll down his cheek.

Stiles kept his head down, unable to make eye contact with anyone or look at the large framed photos of a smiling Allison. The guilt, shame, and grief surrounded him like a dark cloud. The Sheriff was wearing his uniform, badge shining on his chest; he kept his hand clasped on his sons shoulder because he knew all too well that they could have been mourning the loss of two teenagers.

Kira dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, she wished she’d had the chance to get to know Allison better. She thought they could have been good friends if they’d had the chance.

Derek sat with his back straight, listening to the descriptions of Allison and her short life. His lips twitched up involuntarily when it was mentioned she had been a nationally ranked archer; he bet Allison could have out shot anyone in the world.

Black marks ran down Lydia’s cheeks, allowing for a few moments for her mask to slip completely. Even though she and Derek had a plan there was a chance it might not work, or it would go wrong, she was terrified; but she missed Allison so much it hurt to breathe and she was going to do everything she could to bring her back.

Lydia ended her eulogy with: “ _She’ll always be my best friend.”_

Derek gave Lydia a hug when she returned to her seat. Everybody around them were too wrapped up in their sadness to notice or care about the unusually familiar gesture.

When the service was over Lydia made her way back to the front of the room to talk to Chris. Derek followed her. Chris enveloped her in a hug and she wanted to tell him she was sorry, that she was trying to fix it.

“When are they burying her?” Lydia asked after Chris let her go.

“Later this afternoon.” Up close she could see the dark circles under his eyes. Chris put his hand on top of the casket and took a deep, shuddering breath. “They keep asking me if I want to see her, one last time before...” The hunter trailed off, his ability to compartmentalise slipping.

“Don’t,” Derek said quietly. “It was bad enough you were there when,” Derek shook his head. “You don’t want to think of her like that. Laura and I had to make the identifications for the police after the fire,” he admitted. “You can never get those kind of images out of your head. Don’t do that to yourself, don’t make it worse than it already is.”

Chris nodded and clapped the younger man on the shoulder before moving away to talk to Melissa McCall.

“We should go to the vault and get everything we need ready,” Lydia said to Derek when Chris was out of earshot.

Scott approached them just as they were leaving.

“Are you coming to the wake?” Scott asked, voice thick with tears.

Lydia shook her head and pulled the alpha into a hug. “I can’t tonight,” she said softly. “I just can’t do it. Tomorrow night though, I promise. We’ll do something just for us, just for the pack.”

Scott nodded and hugged Lydia tighter.

Lydia rubbed her hand up and down Scott’s back and whispered things to him; things like how everything was going to be okay and how they were going to get through this.

Derek watched the two teenagers, and realised that he had seen Lydia act many ways in the short amount of time that they had known each other, but this was the first time he had seen her look tender, her sharp edges totally worn down.

***

Lydia trailed her finger along the rows of jars, some of the labels were in Latin, others in French, there were plants here she had never heard of before.

“Why is all of this down here in the first place? Wouldn’t your mom just have gone to Deaton for all of this?” she asked. “Isn’t that the point of an emissary?”

“Emissaries keep balance, order,” Derek picked up a crystal, examined it, and then put it back in its place. “Most of the time Deaton would have been consulted but mom always made sure she was prepared in case she needed to make everything…a little less balanced. I just wish she would have organised this a bit better, you would have thought the quartz crystals would be with the other kinds of crystals but they’re _not._ ”

Derek made an exasperated noise and Lydia bit back a smile.

She moved away from the jars of dried plants and started to look for the crystals on other shelves. She made a mental note to get Derek to bring her back down here after they were done so she could see everything the vault had to offer; maybe they could organise it properly.

Lydia found the four quartz crystals they were looking for on a dusty shelf half hidden behind a wooden box. 

“I’ve found them!” She called over her shoulder to Derek while trying to dislodge the box.

The box slipped out of her grasp and fell to the ground, the lid flying open and letters and photographs spilling out onto the ground.

Lydia dropped to her knees and started to gather up all the fallen papers. Derek knelt beside her and picked up the box with extreme care. Lydia paused her mad rush to pick up the contents of the box and looked at the photographs in her hands.

“Are these?” She shuffled through several of the photos. “Is this you?” Lydia turned a photo around to show Derek and noticed a caption written on the back in a neat, cursive, feminine, hand.

_Derek. Age 7._

Derek nodded but didn’t say anything.

Lydia examined another photo; Talia Hale was sitting on a couch, a young girl with pigtails was sitting cross legged on the seat next to her and a toddler with a bright smile was sitting on Talia’s lap. Another caption in the same hand writing was on the back.

_Mothers’ Day. Talia. Laura (6). Derek (3)._

The next photo showed the same girl with the pigtails, older now, sticking her tongue out at whoever was behind the camera.

_Laura. First day of high school._

The last photo Lydia looked at was captioned in a messier scrawl than the others.

_Mom and me._

A teenage Derek, maybe thirteen or fourteen years old, smiled up at Lydia from the photo, his arm slung around his mother’s shoulders who had been laughing when the photograph was taken.

Derek reached out and carefully took the photographs from Lydia’s hands, he put them back in the box and closed the lid.

Lydia didn’t know what to say. She thought about asking why Derek kept the photos down in the dark vault, but she already knew the answer to that. He kept them down there to keep them safe; they were all he had left.

“I think we have everything now,” Derek said. “There’s still a few hours left before dark but we still need to set everything up then get back to the cemetery.”

Lydia nodded and let Derek help her to her feet.

***

“This was a stupid plan,” Derek announced in a low whisper.

They were standing in the middle of the cemetery digging up Allison’s fresh grave. Lydia had meticulously moved the place card and all of the flowers out of the way so they wouldn’t be damaged. It was midnight when they had arrived and they had made sure all of the employees were gone for the night, but it was still an incredibly risky plan.

“I didn’t hear you coming up with anything better,” Lydia shot back, her voice just as soft as Derek’s even though there was no need for them to be speaking as quietly as they were.

“I’m not saying I had a better plan but come on. I mean, we’re desecrating a grave.” Derek said mostly to himself, shaking his head.

“You say that like this is the worst thing you’ve ever done.” Lydia looked up to find Derek staring at her, mouth open. “No,” Lydia shook her head. “I didn’t mean that.”

“It’s fine,” Derek said gruffly then went back to digging.

“It’s not” Lydia told him. “It’s not and I’m sorry, I know you’re not a bad guy. We _are_ desecrating a grave. We’re desecrating my _best friends’_ grave and I’m scared and when I get scared I get...”

“Bitchy?” Derek supplied.

Lydia huffed out a shaky laugh. “I was going to say short tempered, but yeah, bitchy works too.”

There was silence for a while as Derek dug, it was faster for him to do it alone than for Lydia to try and help and get in the way. (She had initially been angry that Derek assumed that she would get in the way, but eventually she had to concede that he had a point.)

“I know you’re not a bitch,” Derek said after about 15 minutes of hard digging.

“Thanks.”

They were quiet again until Derek’s shovel hit the hard wood of Allison’s coffin.

Derek cleared the rest of the dirt away and took a deep breath in through his nose.

“Are you ready?” He asked Lydia.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” She told him. She was kneeling at the edge of the grave, looking down at the casket.

Derek repositioned himself so he could get the coffin lid open without completely destroying it.

The bile rose up the back of Derek’s throat and he clenched his teeth hard together, above him he heard Lydia suck in a sharp breath.

They had both been preparing for it, but the sight of Allison nestled amongst the white satin lining, the morticians makeup contrasting starkly with the paleness of her hands, hit them like a ton of bricks. The smell of death and decay filled the air, Derek wasn’t sure if Lydia could smell it but it made his hair stand on end.

Lydia passed Derek down the blanket they had brought without being asked for it. He wrapped up Allison and lifted her out of the grave as gently as he could. He tried not to think about how Allison’s dark hair reminded him of Laura, or how the weight of her in his arms reminded him of Erica.

Derek pulled himself up from the grave to find Lydia kneeling over Allison. Lydia’s hands were hovering above Allison’s face, as though she wanted to touch her but was scared to. Tears were running down Lydia’s face, her whole body shook with soundless sobs. Lydia finally pushed Allison’s hair out of her face and went still.

“Lydia,” Derek knelt down in front of Lydia. He cupped her face in his hands and lifted her head so he could look into her eyes. He was surprised to find a smile on Lydia’s face.

“I can hear her,” Lydia whispered, she was looking right through Derek.

“Really?”

“I can hear her,” Lydia repeated. She lifted her hand and waved it around the left side of her head. “It’s so clear.” Tears were still streaming down her cheeks but her smile was stretched wide. “I was trying to listen for her, the voices were so quiet, then I touched her and it was like my ears popped. I could hear her voice saying my name louder than ever. She knows what we’re doing.”

Derek swallowed thickly, he blinked back his own tears and nodded.

“Let’s clean up here and finish this then,” he said. “Let’s bring her home.”

***

It was 3am by the time they managed to make it back to the nemeton.

Despite all the hell they had been through because of the ritual sacrifices awakening the nemeton, it was still the most powerful place in Beacon Hills; and power is what they needed.

Before the sun had set Derek and Lydia had cleared the immediate area surrounding the nemeton and set up a circle of stones around it to give them enough space to work in. They had purified the ground with salt and witch hazel and had sage burning.

Derek laid Allison out on the nemeton in the centre then helped Lydia set up the rest of the circle. Lydia placed one of the four quartz crystals at each cardinal direction to help focus the energy and once she was done Derek put the last stone in place, closing the circle with them inside. They lit six candles, one for each crystal, and two to sit by Allison’s face.

Lydia placed herself at the north point of the circle, she had one of Allison’s arrowheads in her hand and Allison’s family necklace hanging around her neck. Lydia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. All the voices were buzzing in her head louder and louder, it sounded like waves roaring. She focused on Allison’s voice, it was still clearer than the others, repeating Lydia’s name.

Derek sat on the edge of the nematon, the knife they hand brought with them in his hands, and waited.

The air around them moved, picking up dust and debris, the candles flickered but didn’t go out, the trees outside of the circle remained eerily still. Derek’s skin prickled as though he was shifting and Lydia’s long, red hair whipped around her face. Lydia’s lips moved, shaping silent phrases, calling out to Allison.

They sat for hours, much like they had when they had been reading the books looking for information; neither of them were willing to stop.

Lydia could hear Allison, she could feel her, but she was just out of reach. Tears leaked out from between Lydia’s eyelids, making her makeup run even more and causing her eyelashes to clump together.

Derek saw the change in Lydia occur. One moment Lydia was swaying slightly in her place, mouth forming words he couldn’t hear, then the next moment she was perfectly still, her lips pressed tight together. Lydia’s eyes opened but it wasn’t Lydia looking at him.

“Allison,” Derek said quietly.

Lydia nodded once. “Now,” she said, it was Lydia’s voice but Derek could hear Allison behind it.

Derek moved slowly, he knew what he had to do but he didn’t want to take his eyes off Lydia, not while she was possessed.

Allison’s hand was cold in his as he sliced open her palm, no blood welled in the wound; there was just discoloured tissue. The sharp knife sliced his own hand as easily as though he was cutting butter and the scent of blood filled his nostrils; Lydia had coated the blade in wolfsbane, it wasn’t enough to poison him but it was enough to stop the wound from healing instantly. Derek clasped Allison’s hand in his and willed for life to be pushed into her instead of pain being drawn out.

Lydia had walked over to them and was kneeling on Allison’s other side. Derek looked at her and she nodded; Lydia really was back in control. Derek handed Lydia the knife. Lydia cut open Allison’s other palm then did the same thing to her own.

Magic buzzed around them. The voices in Lydia’s head was a cacophony of sound pounding against her skull; Allison’s voice the loudest of all. Derek could feel his wolf being pulled to the surface, he could feel his fangs and claws ready to break through, but he focused all his energy on Allison; waiting to hear her heart start to beat again.

The sky was grey and a mist coated the forest floor when it finally happened.

Lydia gasped and her head snapped up, the voices in her head fell silent all at once. Derek felt the pull through his body, it was as if the air had been knocked out of him, his head felt light and his fangs slipped down as he momentarily lost control.

Allison’s pulse was soft and irregular at first, too faint for even Derek to hear. However as the sun rose it became stronger, Lydia and Derek’s combined powers working through Allison’s body and reviving her cell by cell.

When Allison’s chest rose in her first breath Lydia was certain her heart was going to pound out of her chest with joy.

The smell of death wasn’t surrounding Allison anymore. Derek didn’t have a name for what he could smell but he thought it must be what new life smells like; it smelt sweet and fresh and it made Derek feel like he was going to burst out laughing.

There was colour in her cheeks and Allison’s hands warmed from more than just from the body heat Lydia and Derek were providing.

At 6:37am Allison Argent opened her eyes.

“Lydia.” Allison’s voice was weak and hoarse, but it was Allison. It was definitely Allison.

Lydia and Derek helped Allison up into a sitting position and Lydia threw her arm around her best friend. Derek tried to pull his hand free from Allison’s, to give the girls their moment, but Allison held tight.

“I knew you could do it,” Allison mumbled against Lydia’s shoulder.

“Allison, I’m so sorry,” Lydia sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”

Allison shook her head, she was still too weak to talk much. “It’s okay Lyds.”

Lydia pulled back and composed herself. “It really worked,” she whispered. “You’re back.”

“Yeah,” Allison nodded. “Thanks to you and Derek.” She gave Derek a dazzling smile that made it hard to believe that moments before her heart hadn’t been beating.

Allison finally let go of Lydia and Derek’s hands so she could stretch and feel movement in her body again.

Derek noticed that both girls were shivering in the cold morning air; Allison was only wearing the thin dress she had been buried in and Lydia was wearing a short skirt and crop top. Derek grabbed the blanket that had been discarded on the ground and wrapped it around Allison’s shoulders, then he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over Lydia’s shoulders.

The gesture snapped Lydia out of the trance she was in regarding Allison. She turned around and launched herself at Derek, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she chanted against his chest.

Derek wrapped his own arms around her, the hand that wasn’t covered in blood resting on the back of her head. He was still feeling light headed and drained, he knew it would be a while before he was fully healed, but it was worth it.

“You’re welcome,” Derek replied because he didn’t know what else to say.

“Can we go see my dad now?” Allison asked, sounding stronger already.

Lydia only pulled away from Derek far enough so her words weren’t muffled by his chest.

“Yeah,” She said. “Of course we can.”

“Let’s go spread the good news,” Derek agreed.

Derek offered to carry Allison to the car, but in true Allison Argent fashion, with a small smile, she told him she could take care of herself.

So the three of them made their way through the preserve to the car. Allison’s arm linked with Lydia’s, the smaller girl taking some of her friends’ weight, and Lydia’s other hand clasped in Derek’s.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you liked this. It was so much fun to write.


End file.
